The Longest Year
by antea-aevum
Summary: 15 y.o Harry Potter finds himself homeless and expelled when an attack by Vol. forces him to take drastic measures but Hogwarts remains his school and home as Harry takes his wandless magic under control, manages Dudley and eventually gets adopted. HPSS.
1. Attack

**The Longest Year**

_by Antea-Aevum_

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Chapter 1: Attack

Harry jerked awake, knocking his head into the slanted ceiling, a fist reflexively flying to grind into his forehead trying to stop the sharp pain growing in his scar. The 15-year-old bit his lip, hunching over his knees as he tried to keep the pain in bay. The small cupboard, barely adequate to house a small kid much less a teenager seemed to close around Harry as he held his forehead with his left hand and groping around with his right to turn on the tiny lightbulb hanging on a thin wire which was banging into the back of his head.

His shaking hand found the switch and he gave it a yank, the small glow of the weak lightbulb bathing the cramped space in an eerie orange. He found his glasses easily (he always placed it beside the thin mattress) and slipped it onto his face. His indistinct world came into sharp focus and he closed his eyes, falling with his back to the mattress. That meant his lower half body met the cold wooden floor as the mattress was not big enough to accommodate his entire frame.

Voldemort was planning something. Something he had yet to know, all that was conveyed through the scar was that he was angry it wasn't going as he planned. Everytime his sickeningly loyal death eaters brought back unwelcome news (which was pretty much all the time), Voldemort never hesitated to use the Cruciatus curse. Harry had lost count of times he had wondered to himself why the death eaters were so damn loyal to someone who regularly tortured them. Bunch of fools. That was what Voldemort always called them. And Harry fully agreed. Bunch of fools.

The pain finally receding, he reached under his mattress to pull out a crumpled calendar. He picked up the blue colored pencil lying beside his mattress and crossed out a number. "Another 25 days to Hogwarts," he whispered to himself. He stared at the calendar for a few minutes before returning it to its hiding place.

He propped himself up with his elbows and glanced around the small space. His knees were bent, the toes touching the door of the cupboard and he sighed. He flexed the fingers on his right hand and held it out over his stomache, palm up. "Accio," he whispered and his socks flew into his hand. He grinned.

Wandless magic was something he had discovered he could do last summer. Even so, he had credited it to a momentary burst of uncontrolled magic and he never really tried to tap into them. He could only do simple charms and this summer, he had found out that if he really concentrated, he could levitate pots and pans and even make spoons stir the broth by themselves like how Mrs. Weasley did in her own kitchen. That seriously lightened the burden of endless chores the Dursleys constantly piled onto him.

The upside was that wandless magic was not traceable and somehow, doing magic secretly throughout the summer made up for the lonely days and nights he had to go through before seeing Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione again.

His wand and the rest of his school things were in the garage. He had let Hedwig go and he surmised she'll probably be at the Weasleys. He sat up, hunching over so he wouldn't hit his head again and touched the doorknob with one finger. It glowed a light blue before the door clicked softly and swung open. Harry crept out of the cupboard, listening for any sounds before he straightened up and tiptoed to steal a glance at the large grandfather clock standing in the hall. It was 2.45 am.

Harry half-ran to the kitchen noiselessly, opened the back door and set out towards the garage. Another touch and the door swung open. He walked towards his trunk nestled in the farthest corner and cammouflaged with various broken chairs and tables. He carefully levitated all the junk aside and fell to his knees before his trunk and threw open the lid. He had managed to complete his Transfiguration homework last night and Potions way before; Potions essays are never meant to be procrastinated on, it's a do-or-die thing. Tonight, Charms was next. He pulled out a roll of empty parchment, his quill and a half empty bottle of black ink. He fished out his Charms text and lowered the trunk lid.

Unrolling the parchment on the flat surface of the trunk top, he flipped open the book, studied the question and dipped his quill into his ink bottle.

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"Get the paper, boy!" Vernon barked as he trampled down the stairs. "And my coffee better be on the table before I reach the kitchen!"

Very familiar with the routine (which was exactly the same for the past decade, orders and the time needed for Uncle Vernon to reach the kitchen from the stairs), Harry had already made the cup of coffee and had the newspaper right in front of Uncle Vernon's place.

Uncle Vernon huffed disappointedly when he saw everything was in place but he settled down nonetheless as he dipped his buttered toast into his coffee. He coughed violently. "Damn you, boy! Don't you know the proper way to toast bread? This is barely edible!"

Harry ignored the way Vernon gobbled all six pieces of toast despite what he just claimed. Dudley came in next, his folds of fat wobbling as he settled down into a chair. "Toast! I wanted bacon and eggs this morning!"

"You said you wanted buttered toast with strawberries and cream last night," Harry said patiently.

"No, I did not!" Dudley cried. "Dad, I did not!"

"No, he didn't," Uncle Vernon said. He looked at Harry. "What are you staring at? Make the damn bacon and eggs!"

Harry turned around and placed a pan over the stove wordlessly before he did something he would regret to his cousin.

"Oh, Dudley, my sweet little handsome boy! Did you have a good night's sleep?" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice interrupted the sizzling sound the oiled bacon was making.

"No! Harry here at another of his nightmares right at three am, I couldn't sleep at all until eight," Dudley replied. Harry could literally _hear_ his smirk.

Considering he was working on his essay until 6.30 am, that must have been his twin keeping Mr. Dursley Junior up _all_ night playing the latest video game.

"I told you, one more squeak out of you keeping my boy here awake, you sleep in the garage!" Vernon's snarled. "And look here when I'm talking to you!"

Harry whirled around and nearly slammed Dudley's plate of bacon and eggs in front of him before he caught himself and forced himself to place the plate gently onto the table. "Yes, sir."

"Hrmphh." Vernon got up and kissed his wife and son. "I have to go, see both of you tonight at Pine Trees okay?"

"Yes, honey," Petunia turned her cheek towards her husband. "Eight, sharp."

"Eight, sharp," Vernon beamed. He turned back to Harry his smile morphing into a growl. "And brush up on your cooking for God's sake!"

He let himself out through the back door. Petunia cleared her throat as she cut a piece of toast neatly into two. "You heard your uncle. We are going out tonight to celebrate our anniversary. We'll probably be late but that isn't an excuse to laze around. Clean the kitchen and scrub the floors. If I find a single spot of dirt, you start again. You hear me?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," said Harry, blowing happy fanfares on tiny trumpets mentally. "It shall be spotless."

Aunt Petunia snorted.

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His aunt and cousin left for their dinner at 7.30 pm, his cousin giving him a kick to his leg before he got into the car. Harry rubbed the sore spot and scowled when the car was safely out of sight. He locked the door and stretched, moving into the kitchen. Without further delay, he launched into his cleaning. He scoured the stoves, wiped the cupboards, washed all the crockery until they shone under the light and scrubbed the tables and chairs. It was amost nine-thirty when he was done. Exhausted, he sank into one of the chairs and looked at the mop, bucket and the bottle of cleanser sitting in the corner.

He sighed and leaned his head onto the table. He hadn't had enough sleep for days, finishing up the endless chores his uncle created for him every morning until late at night, waking up from the pain Voldemort was sending through the damned scar and doing his homework right up to sun set.

_One quick nap._

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_"Everything is going smoothly as intended, my Lord," a death eater said respectfully as he knelt before Voldemort._

_"Is that muggle woman out of the house?" Voldemort hissed._

_"Yes, my Lord. When she returns, we shall kill her. The wards will collapse with her and Harry Potter shall be with you before midnight comes."_

_"Very good," Voldemort cackled. "Very good!"_

_The Cruciatus curse followed as Voldemort's evil laughter filtered through the cries of pain._

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Harry convulsed in reflected pain as he gasped and curled into a fetal position. The cold kitchen tiles helped him regain focus as the bitter cold seeped through his thin shirt and into his heated body. He vaguely registered his legs half tangled with the rungs of the wooden chair and realized he had fallen off the chair. His head ached, half from the curse and half from hitting the hard floor.

_Voldemort. Aunt Petunia._

He got on all fours, wildly searching for the clock before realizing he was looking in the wrong direction. His world spun crazily as he turned around to look at the small clock sitting on the fridge behind him. Eleven-thirty!

He got to his feet, swaying precariously. Who? Who to tell? Dumbledore? McGonagall? How to reach them? They never told him how to reach them! Mrs. Figg? He stumbled to the back door, scrabbling for the doorknob before remembering that Mrs. Figg had embarked on a cruise for seven days. She was coming back tomorrow.

Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.

SHIT.

_Wand. _

The door gave under his weight and he lurched out into the night. He ran towards the garage, the door banging open before he even saw it and held out his hand. "Accio!"

His wand sped into his hand, smacking soundly against his palm. He stared at it. What was the wand for? He could do wandless magic for Merlin's sake. Idiot!

No.

Alert the ministry.

With the wand?

Harry wracked his brains. The brilliant idea that struck him when he was standing at the kitchen was lost in the haze of pain, panic and confusion.

Get expelled!

Get expelled so Dumbledore would be alerted and will come to check what was wrong!

Harry raised his wand.

But what if this was not a vision? He would get **expelled**. He briefly entertained a vision of himself standing in front of the ministry and Dumbledore, explaining himself. He hesitated.

The sound of an engine cut through the quiet night. They are back!

Harry dropped his wand arm and slowly walked to the front, making sure to stay hidden. Uncle Vernon manuevered his car into the porch and Dudley jumped out. Aunt Petunia was drawing the gate shut when a sudden flash of white of a death eater's mask down the street made Harry spring into action.

"Aunt Petunia!" Harry shouted, barrelling into his aunt, knocking her sideways onto the ground just as a jet of green light shot out, hitting the air right where Aunt Petunia was two seconds ago.

"What is happening?" Vernon's angry voice thundered.

"Harry!" Petunia snapped as she shoved her nephew off her roughly. "What are you doing!"

Flipped onto his back, Harry could see a large group of death eaters running towards the open gate. He jumped to his feet. "Get away!" He shouted to the Dursleys. "Hide!"

"What hogwash is this?" Vernon started but yelped as jets of green light started to zing across the black night.

Harry fell to his hands and knees, scrambling for cover. Rolling behind huge bushes of some flower he didn't recognize, he grabbed his wand from his pocket and gave it a sharp flick. "Lumos!" The wand flared to life.

Perhaps it was a bad move. Half of the death eaters looked towards the bush as the bright yellow light pierced the night. "Nox!" Harry cried, starting to crawl away. "Lumos! Nox! Lumos! Nox!" He cried a few times for good measure. "Accio!" He pointed it to the nearest flowerpot and sent it careening into the head of the nearest death eater. "Alohomora!" The neighbor's car unlocked with a loud crack.

_That should do it._

"DADDDDD!" Dudley's wails broke through the confusion.

"Get into the house! Get into the -- oooff!" Harry fell to the ground as a death eater caught him by his ankles, pulling him towards the clearing.

"Potter," he snarled, lifting his wand.

Harry kicked away and fell onto his right just as a body binding spell broke free from the death eater's wand. Harry's hand flew out and gave the spell a mighty _shove _and for a moment, he wasn't sure it worked but the spell gave an almighty tremble then sped straight back to the death eater and with a surprised shout, he fell into a full body bind.

More death eaters were coming and he kicked free of the earth, propelling himself to his feet running towards the house. He spared a look back and saw neighbours pouring out of their houses in confusion before scrambling back inside screaming as death eaters hell-bent on getting them chased after the terrified muggles. "Stupefy!" He shouted hoping that his aim wasn't off.

It wasn't. The death eater trying to kill Miss Fiffy from Number 6 collapsed in a heap.

"MUMMMMMYYYYY!" A sharp cry of a small girl reached Harry's ears.

_Alright. Change of plans._

Harry turned aside just in time to avoid a bone-breaking curse before taking off towards the open gate and into the chaos, neatly dodging several curses. He felt something wet trickle down his pant leg and realized that he was bleeding but adrenaline dulled the pain to a nonexistent level. He launched himself at the death eater advancing on the girl, both of them rolling to the ground.

"Potter," the death eater hissed. He grasped Harry's wrists and rolled on top of him, punching him squarely in the eye.

Ignoring the sharp pain, he brought his knee up in a vicious kick right into the man's solar plexus and as the death eater staggered backwards, brought his foot to stamp right where it would hurt most for all men. He pushed off him and turned towards the girl but a flash of green light from another death eater and she was dead.

He cursed and held his palm up, concentrating on building a shield before someone got him. A spell lanced towards him and bit into his stomach. He gasped, his hand coming up bloody from the wound.

"Expelliarmus!"

His wand flew out of his hand at the same time Harry flung his palm out, "Accio!"

Both the death eater's and his wand came flying back to him. He stunned the death eater easily.

_Shield. Raise a shield. Come on. Shield. Shield._

Three hexes, four curses, one near miss, seven rescued neighbors and two houses later only did he manage to conjure a weak but sufficient shield. Spells and hexes bounced off the invisible shield before two death eaters blocked his way. He moved quickly, bending to charge, knocking both of them and himself to the ground. "Stupefy!" He yelled, stunning both death eaters. He turned around to see where he was. He was almost to the end of the street. Throngs of screaming, unconscious or dead and fighting people occupied the whole stretch of the road. He could see one man brandishing a shovel at a laughing death eater.

_Get back to the house. Back lane._

A slashing hex tore into his arm before he snapped out of his thoughts. He ran towards the main street, aiming his wand and palm out to maintain the shield.

He stunned a few more death eaters, fought with his fists, claws and all but he soon accepted that he could not save all of them. He had done his best. He executed a sharp turn and tore into the back lane, heading towards the Dursleys' backdoor. He jumped into the compound, catching sight of Mr. Hornby shouting in fright just in front of his house. He ran towards his neighbour, stunning the death eater in front of him and catching another slashing hex but saved Mr. Hornby who fainted as soon as the stunning curse hit the death eater.

He spotted a killing curse headed his way out of the corner of his eye and he dived to the ground, aiming straight for the protection of the car parked right in front of the door and coming to stop as he rolled against Dudley who was trying to drag his injured mother away from the vehicle and towards the house.

"No killing curse on the boy, you idiot!" Someone shouted.

"Inside! Now!" Harry yanked open the door then yanked at Dudley.

Aunt Petunia moaned. Harry looked down to see her right leg snapped cleanly off leaving a bloody stump.

"Oh, God," Harry murmured.

Screams penetrated the air and Harry shook himself mentally. "Come on!" Sensing Dudley in panic wasn't much help and Aunt Petunia a dead weight, Harry whipped out his wand to levitate them.

"Put that away you freak!" Dudley screamed.

Harry ignored him and flicked his wand at his relatives, sending them shooting into the house rather roughly; he just wasn't used to levitating such...huge objects, mainly, Dudley Dursley.. "I'm so sorry!" He cried. Terror overwhelmed him as he saw three death eaters running towards him. He slammed the door shut and prayed the wards were holding.

_Uncle Vernon. Neighbours._

"Where is Uncle Vernon!" Harry yelled, trying to get Dudley to his senses.

"H-He wouldn't m-move..." Dudley wailed. "I-I think h-he's d-d-d-d..." He couldn't seem to say the word and he burst into loud sobs, fists grabbing his mother's shirt.

Harry looked down at his aunt. Blood seeped through her wound forming a dark puddle onto the floor. He tore off his outer shirt, and clamped it to his aunt's wound. "Hold this!" He wrenched one of Dudley's hand towards him and brought it to hold the balled-up cloth against Aunt Petunia's mutilated leg.

The door exploded off its hinges and the death eaters tried to enter but a sharp red light burst into fiery sparks, burning them. One of them whipped out his wand but the wards rejected the spell, bouncing back to them. All of them ducked as one.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, the spell's own red light slicing through the ward's red sparks and hitting one of the death eater. The other two stepped nimbly aside.

"Ennervate," one of them said.

_Damn_.

"Stupefy, stupefy, stupefy, stupefy, stupefy, stupefy..." Harry started chanting.

"Ennervate, ennervate, oh shit, ennervate..."

More screams of innocent women, men and children alike split the air.

But the cruel laughter of a man as he reached out to pull a the woman's head back with her hair to perform the slashing hex was what did it for Harry.

"**STUPEFY!**" Trembling with exertion, terror, anger and desperation, Harry felt his magic contract into powerful proportions, wandless magic exploding from his fingertips and wand, bending into a huge wave of pink, crashing over the screaming, fighting crowds of wizards and muggles alike.

And everyone crumpled to the ground.

Harry's harsh breathing was the only sound in the suddenly silent night, the magnitude of his wandless magic rendering him speechless.

Then a couple of brown owls flew towards 4 Privet Drive, dropping letters to Harry's feet as they soared past the boy.

Harry looked down. Picked one up. Slashed the flap open and pulled out the folded paper.

_Dear Mister Harry James Potter,  
The usage of prohibited underage magic has been detected at 12.07 a.m. on the..._

Harry crumpled the letter and let it fall to the ground beside him.

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**Comments welcome :) Please review! Don't flame or I'll get all defensive and you'll get all worked up and I'll get aggressive then we'll just have to fight. And I think we both have better things to do.**

**Next chapter probably in a week or more.**


	2. Unhealthy Arrangements

**The Longest Year**

**  
**_by Antea-Aevum_

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Chapter 2: Unhealthy Arrangements

Harry was sitting with his head in his hands on the doorstep when the aurors, Dumbledore and a healthy proportion of Hogwarts' staff turned up.

Gasps alerted him to new visitors and he lifted his aching head to see a huge crowd of aurors already at work taking stunned death eaters under custody. McGonaggall, Pomfrey, Flitwick and Sprout was staring at the entire stunned neighbourhood, looks of disbelief etched on their faces.

"_Mother of Merlin_," someone breathed.

Dudley was moaning softly somewhere in the house. Harry had stemmed the blood flow and bandaged Aunt Petunia's wound as best as he could and his aunt now rested in a fevered sleep. He had comforted Dudley as best as he could before he he went to find his uncle's body and dragged him into the house, almost losing consciousness in the process, too exhausted to use magic. He would've also ennervated the entire neighbourhood except the death eaters of course but he wasn't really in the mood to explain and calm hysterical neighbours.

He had also noticed policemen among the bodies, fingers of moonlight painting the limp bodies of muggles and wizards alike.

Dumbledore came to stand in front of him, a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you alright, Harry?" He asked softly.

Harry nodded mutely. "You didn't tell me how to reach you," he accused.

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment, not wanting to explain when there was obviously so much to do before they caused national alarm in both worlds. "I'm sorry, Harry." He patted Harry on the shoulder. "It'll be alright."

"Of course," Harry said sarcastically, jumping up in a sudden burst of anger. "My uncle just died and my aunt's missing a good proportion of her leg, that's all. Oh, and I got myself expelled so I could reach you, who somehow _forgot _to tell me how to get in contact, and I just managed to stun the entire neighbourhood and nearly died. But then, I have it all under control without _any_ help so why don't you just come tomorrow instead? It's _all _alright."

His rant took the rest of his energy and swayed on his feet. "I'm sorry." He mumbled before collapsing, unconscious.

Dumbledore caught him and lowered him to the floor, brushing his hair away from his inflamed scar. "No. I am, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly.

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"Damn it, stop this right now you imbecile! Sit down, NOW, before I use _magic _on you!"

Harry woke to loud shrieks and sobs which he knew immediately as Dudley's. He fumbled around for his glasses before he recognized the familiar surroundings of the Hospital Wing. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table, where it always was. Someone had repaired the broken lens and he sat up, noting the painful aches and bruises all over him before pulling the curtains aside.

Everyone froze before pandemonium started again.

Dudley gave a piercing wail, starting to hurl pillows and Poppy and Snape at the same time.

"Mr. Dursley, really!" Poppy said, exasperated. She started to make her way to Harry. "Oh, Harry..."

"Dudley!" Harry barked.

Dudley turned to look at Harry, tears pooling in his large eyes falling silent.

"They are very nice people," Harry began ignoring the dangerous glitter of Snape's black eyes. "Please stop yelling at them...and do stop throwing..." A pillow smacked into him. "Argh!"

Dudley stood in the center of two beds opposite of Harry and Snape, breathing heavily. Then with a guttural howl, he rushed towards Harry who had started to stand in alarm and knocked into Harry, sending them both crashing to the floor, Dudley straddling his smaller cousin.

"You son of a bitch!" Dudley screamed, raising a fist and hitting Harry in the face with a viscous punch.

"What's that for!" Harry shouted, trying to restrain Dudley, straining to keep a hold on the fat wrists. He saw Snape taking aim with his wand and he yelled, "No! No magic!"

Snape, to his credit, lowered his wand albeit hesitatingly.

Dudley burst into fresh tears. "They are dead! And it's all because of you freaks!" He stabbed at Harry's chest with a pudgy finger.

Memories of yesterday flooded back in a rush, like a dam broken by Dudley's words. "What?" Harry whispered, shock coursing through his system, masking the pain he felt from Dudley's weight pressing into his bruised ribs and the new bruise forming on his cheek from the punch. "Who's dead?" His voice louder now. "Who?" He looked towards Madam Pomfrey for answers but she refused to meet his eyes. "Where's Aunt Petunia?"

Dudley's eyes lit up with renewed fire. "DON'T say her name! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY HER NAME!" He wrapped hands over Harry's neck, applying pressure. "NO RIGHT!"

"Dudley!" Harry gasped, hitting Dudley with half-hearted blows vainly.

A sharp explosion with a deafening bang and Dudley was flying towards the other end of the room hitting the opposite wall with a painfully loud crack and sliding down unconscious. Snape brandished his wand rather balefully.

"_Magic_ seems to be in order. Manhandling boars off you, Mr. Potter, does not happen to be my favorite past time."

"Oh, Merlin," said Poppy faintly. "Harry are you alright?" She reached out to Harry only to have him scrambling towards his cousin's fallen body.

"What did you do? Did you hurt him? He's not dead is he!"

"Although I'll take extreme satisfaction in that action, I dare say its consequences wouldn't look too pleasurable on my record." Snape drawled.

"Now, now, Professor Snape," Poppy said, clearly distraught as she tried to pull Harry away from Dudley. "You could have just stunned him and levitated him to his bed. No need for such dramatics, surely..."

"Oh God, blood!" moaned Harry as lifted his hand, smeared with blood. "Dudley!" He shook his cousin. "Where is he bleeding from?"

Poppy wrenched Harry up and got him back onto his bed. "_You _are bleeding, Harry!" She poked her wand against Harry's ribs. "You got quite a nasty cut which I just finished stitching up! Now it has split open!" She cried. "And stay _still_, Harry," she added, exasperated.

Harry groaned as he lifted his head slightly. He squinted as he saw Snape watching him, sitting on one of the beds with his head bandaged, twirling his wand between his slender fingers. Somehow, he wasn't in the hospital gown but in his famous black robes. Harry figured if anyone could cow Poppy, it would be Snape.

"Uh, what's wrong with Professor Snape?" He asked Poppy softly.

"A _flowerpot _hit me in the head," Snape said loudly.

Flowerpot?

Harry felt himself coloring. "Uhm, was it...me?"

"No, I smashed the pot into my own head," Snape snarled. He jabbed at his neck where there was a healthy bruise spreading. "And while we are at this, you kicked me as well." He sat forward, clearly getting into the swing of it, rolling up his sleeve. "_And _this bruise..."

"So you expect me to distinguish you from the rest?" Harry said, getting defensive. "Do you have "undercover death eater" tattooed on your mask? Give me a break!"

"I was trying to save you," Snape snapped. He looked at Dudley then said in a level tone while he levitated Dudley to the farthest bed away from his. "You did well, Potter."

Harry blinked, mouth open then yelled in pain as Poppy re-wrapped the bandages rather roughly. "Now, Mr. Potter, no more nonsense from you for the rest of the year, preferably!" Then she rested a hand on his forehead. "But yes, you did good."

Something else swam to the surface of his memories as the shock from the events in the past 10 minutes wore off. "Aunt Petunia?" He said softly.

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Poppy quietly. "She died of excess blood loss." She paused. "Your uncle died from a killing curse."

Harry turned away from Snape and Poppy, lying on his side, pulling the blankets over his head. He felt Poppy's hand on his back for a moment before she pulled the curtains around his cubicle to give him some privacy and left.

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Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window when Dumbledore came to see him late afternoon. He looked weary and worn, like a man returning from a long, long battle. He sat down heavily in a chair beside Harry's bed, waiting for Harry to acknowledge him. Harry refused to move.

"I understand that you are feeling very upset with me." Dumbledore said gently. "And you have every right to be."

Harry gave no indication he was listening.

"Mundungus was staying at Mrs. Figg's house while she's away. I should have told you that."

"Yes you should've." Harry said, his eyes still glued on the faint shadow of the whomping willow far outside the castle.

"And I apologize for sending Mundungus. He was apparently the opposite of vigilance. He was out at Diagon Alley when the Death Eaters launched the attack."

Harry didn't reply.

"I'm very sorry, Harry. I know you are feeling very upset about the death of..."

"Yeah," Harry said in clipped tones.

Dumbledore took the hint and didn't complete his sentence. "Well, Harry...I wanted to ask you whether you'll like to follow me to get your belongings and perhaps some of your cousin's because he will be staying here for some time while we arrange everything."

"What about Aunt Marge?" Harry asked, feeling that Dudley won't be very appreciative for the arrangement.

"She's out of the country and we have to await her return. Furthermore, the aftermath needs taking care of."

"Alright," Harry stood up. Dumbledore stood as well.

"I'll meet you at the Entrance." When Harry nodded, Dumbledore left.

Poppy came out from her office bringing Harry's set of clothes, magically cleaned and repaired. "Here, Harry."

Harry took it and she left quickly, the tension in the air palpable. Harry noticed Snape was no longer in the Hospital Wing. Dudley was still where he was before, unconscious. Suspecting Poppy had gave him a healthy dose of Dreamless Sleep, he pulled the curtains and changed.

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They apparated to Privet Drive. Aurors were everywhere, disguised as Muggles but the bulge that was clearly their wands were visible in the waistband of their pants.

Dumbledore walked beside Harry, nodding occasionally to the Aurors. Everything seemed normal, as if last night didn't happen. His neighbours talked and chatted over fences just like any other given day.

"Professor?" Harry said softly.

Dumbledore looked at him.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

"It's alright, Harry."

Dumbledore reached into his robes and extended a slim shaft of wood to his student. "You can use this before the Aurors release your wand."

Harry took it with a silent thanks. "Am I expelled?" He asked quietly, fingering the shining, polished wood. It gleamed in the early evening sun.

"Technically, yes. But we are looking into it. It was clearly self-defence and the only option to call for help. You will pull through."

"Fudge doesn't like me," Harry offered.

"He doesn't have the only say in this matter," Dumbledore replied. "Don't worry, Harry."

They stopped in front of 4, Privet Drive.

"Go, I'll wait here," Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded and entered the house. The furniture and the pictures on the wall were all where they should be. In fact, everything was in place. He tried very hard not to look at the far corner where he had tried to stop Aunt Petunia's bleeding. He climbed the stairs and turned the doorknob to Dudley's room.

The door admitted him with a silent click. He opened the cupboard, having to move a few broken playstations and remote controlled cars out of the way first, and dragged out the suitcase at the bottom of the cupboard that Aunt Petunia used to pack Dudley's clothes when they went for vacation. He opened the leather case and reached into the cupboard, taking as many shirts and pants he could hold before dumping them into the suitcase, not bothering to unhook the hangers.

He continued until the large suitcase was filled. He noticed Dudley's stack of comic books and decided to take them. Dudley will need something to occupy his time. He threw out a few gaily colored shirts that was thrice his size and dumped the books into the suitcase. He swept in a few pencils and stationary although he couldn't imagine the idea of Dudley doing Math in his spare time.

He closed the trunk and had to stand on it before he could lock it close. He lugged the trunk down the stairs. Dumbledore was in the living room looking at the framed pictures with a frown on his face.

Harry let go of the heavy suitcase, his ribs on fire from the effort and placed a hand on his side. Dumbledore turned around, a question in his blue eyes but seeing Harry in pain, he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Harry said, forcing himself to remove his hand from his injured ribs.

"I can perform a numbing charm," Dumbledore offered.

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine."

The suitcase at his feet burst, clothes and books flying everywhere. Dumbledore gave a low chuckle. "I'll take care of it," he waved to Harry. "You get your cousin's things."

"That's my cousin's things," Harry said.

Dumbledore repacked the suitcase and looked at Harry. "Alright, get yours then."

Harry nodded then turned towards the cupboard and opened it. He got on his knees and crawled into the cramped space, his ribs protesting so loudly he could practically hear them screaming. He ignored the sharp pain and collected a few of his personal belongings, pulled his pillow out of its pillowcase and stuffed them into it. He crawled out backwards, nearly banging his head and straightened, slamming the door closed. When he turned around, Dumbledore was staring at him.

"What?" Harry asked defensively.

"That is your _room_?" Dumbledore asked, a hint of anger in his calm voice.

"Yeah," Harry said dismissively then turned awkwardly to his Headmaster. "Uh, you know the charm you mentioned..."

Dumbledore smiled then motioned for Harry to come closer. He lay a hand on Harry's ribs then muttered a string of soft Latin. The pain instantly let up.

"Thank you," Harry said, stepping back.

"You're welcome." Dumbledore looked serious again. "You lived in the cupboard since I brought you here?"

"Yeah." The pictures caught Harry's eyes and he walked towards them. His eyes touched all of them before he reached out a hand to take one down. It was a picture of the Dursleys in Perth framed in lovely gilded silver. They looked so happy, three of them, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon with a hand each on Dudley's shoulder with the beautiful skyline of Australia behind them. He slipped the photo into his pocket. He turned to Dumbledore. "My school stuff is in the garage."

Dumbledore's eyes were hard and bored into Harry. "Alright, then." He followed Harry out and let the boy lead the way.

He made Harry show him where his trunk was then levitated and shrunk the trunk, slipping it into his pocket. Harry got a chair and started to stand on it to retrieve Hedwig's cage hanging from a hook in the ceiling before Dumbledore ordered him to climb back down saying Poppy would have his beard for letting Harry clamber all over the place. He accioed the cage and shrunk it as well.

"When we get everything settled," Dumbledore motioned Harry to get out of the dark garage. "We need to talk."

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When Harry and Dumbledore got back to the Hospital Wing, Snape was there. He was sitting in a hard-backed chair with his legs elegantly crossed, staring menacingly at Dudley who was cowering in the opposite bed. If Harry got out a pencil and a ruler and drew a line from Snape's boots to Dudley's enormous feet, he would have got a perfect straight line.

"Well, well, Professor Snape," Dumbledore chuckled as he took out Harry's and Dudley's shrunken belongings and returning them to their original state. "You're certainly very at ready."

Harry had no idea what Dumbledore was talking about but Snape scowled. "It happens that I am the only competent person within the 6500 kilometer radius with enough authority to handle Mr. Dursley."

Harry opened his mouth to say that neither earth's Equatorial nor Polar radius was more than a 6400 kilometers but saw that Snape might be making a point and shut his mouth. But he agreed wholeheartedly that Snape certainly had the _authority _to silence Dudley.

"And I'm not _very at ready_, Albus," sneered Snape. "I am very displeased at this _arrangement_," he continued spitting the word out as if it were Bobotuber pus, "and will always be."

"Now, come on, Severus," Dumbledore admonished.

"What arrangement, Professor?" Harry blurted out.

Snape turned his dark, black eyes to Harry at the same time Dumbledore cheerfully answered, "Severus here will take care of both you and your cousin's needs until Mr. Dursley here can be sent to his Aunt Margeret as he is the 'only competent person within the 6500 kilometer radius with enough authority to handle Mr. Dursley'."

Harry choked.

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"Kitchen, dining hall, bathroom, _my_ bedroom," Snape paused to glare at a shivering Dudley and a slightly unhappy Harry. "Enter and die. I mean it." He reached a door at the far end of the long hallway. He pushed the door open. Inside was two double beds, two cupboards, two bedside tables, and two everything. "I expect no squabbles under my roof for everything and anything."

He glanced distastefully at Harry and Dudley's trunks. "Unpack. 20 minutes. Then downstairs for dinner. Do. Not. Be. Late." He gave no backward glance before he swept away from the room.

"Damnit, Potter," Dudley said, reverting back to his usual obnoxious self. "You are purposely doing this to me! Holing me up with _freaks _like you, I..."

"Language!" Snape roared, halfway down the staircase.

Dudley shut his mouth but hissed. "You watch out, Potter!"

Harry wondered how many days he would have to spend with Dudley before Aunt Marge returned until he felt a bolt of guilt streak through him. It was his entire fault that this was happening. He bit his lip and turned to his school trunk and opened it. Dudley opened his suitcase and emptied the contents onto a bed. He stared at the clothes. "You are trying to show me up!" He accused angrily.

"What?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Packing these...these..._awful _clothes!" Dudley exclaimed. He stomped over to Harry's side. He pushed Harry's hand away roughly and reached into the trunk, pulling out Harry's Transfiguration text. He scowled then looked at Harry. With a wicked grin, he opened the book and tore the pages out, letting the loose leaves flutter to Harry's feet.

"Stop that!" Harry yelled. He reached for the book but Dudley threw it aside, reaching for another book. He pulled out the Potions text. Harry blanched. "Dudley, you don't want to do that..."

"Watch me," said Dudley defiantly. He ripped the pages slowly, watching Harry's pained expression. "Dad was right, you are a good-for-nothing piece of shit. _Magic_. All these years of going to this freaky school and you couldn't even _save_ mum and dad." Dudley's eyes teared again.

Harry looked down, shutting his trunk softly. "I'm very sorry, Dudley."

Dudley sat down on the bed, wiping his eyes. "Damn you, Potter."

Then he sat upright. "I _hate_ these clothes. Get new ones for me!"

"But Dudley, these are your favourites," Harry protested. "Favourites in the cupboard, dislikes in boxes remember?" Dudley had made Aunt Petunia box up all the 'hideous' shirts.

"I don't care! I'm not wearing those!" Dudley cried.

Then he picked up a comic book. "Huh...at least you had some brains to get me some of these...with what I'm going through because of you, I ought to have what I want."

Harry gathered up the torn pages of his books. Dudley was still holding the jacket of Harry's Potions text. He flipped the cover over. "_Potions_," he spat. "Who on earth teaches _Potions_?"

"Professor Snape," Harry said.

"Professor who?"

"You have exactly 3 minutes and 34 seconds!" Snape's voice thundered through the dungeons.

"Him," Harry grimaced.

Dudley's mouth fell open. "He's...not the forgiving type I reckon?"

"No," Harry agreed.

Dudley grinned and tossed the cover to Harry. "What will he do to you for not having your book with you?" He got up and left the room.

Harry sighed and stuffed everything into his trunk. "Since I'm Harry Potter, detention until I graduate, probably."

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Harry arrived with barely a second to spare before Snape's grandfather clock starting to chime at eight sharp. The table was laden with simple but delicious dishes. Apparently, Snape had decided Dudley had more fat to spare and had taken upon himself to serve the food to everyone's plates before banishing the dishes. Harry noticed Dudley's portion was half of his and a quarter less than Snape's.

"The 20 minutes deadline includes you in your chair," Snape drawled.

Harry quickly jumped into the remaining chair, beside Dudley. Snape sat opposite from both of them.

"Eat," Snape snapped.

Dudley jammed his spoon into the chicken and potatoes and ate with gusto. Harry ate at a more sedate pace while Snape read the paper, taking bites at regular intervals. Dudley finished his share under 10 minutes and looked at Snape. "Uh...is that all?"

"Yes, that is all," Snape said without looking away from the paper. "If you grow any fatter, Mr. Dursley, we'll have to install wider doors for you to get through."

"I'm not fat!" said Dudley angrily.

"Yes, of course," said Snape sarcastically. "If you are done, excuse yourself and get up to your room."

Dudley looked despairingly at Harry. Harry looked at Snape who was buried behind his paper and pushed his plate silently towards Dudley. Dudley broke into a greedy smile before reaching forward with spoon. He finished Harry's food in record time then got up and quickly ran back to the room, not wanting to spend an extra second with Snape if he could help it.

Harry, too, excused himself without delay and left the surly Potions Master to his own.

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Harry walked down the staircase in a fit of anger, carrying the pile of torn textbooks in his arms. Dudley was being a royal pain in the ass and Harry was afraid that he would hex his cousin if he stayed in the same room for another minute. He knew Dudley was still hurting from his parents?sudden death and if Dudley felt better letting out his anger on Harry, Harry could deal with it. It was, after all, his fault that Dudley was suddenly an orphan. And he knew exactly how that sucked. But Harry also had his limits and today was tiring at the very least.

He peered cautiously in the dark, didn't see any sign of Snape and crept silently towards the table beside the warm fireplace. He pulled up a chair and dumped the pile of paper and jackets on the table. He rummaged around for his Spells text and brushed a couple of pieces of pages off the book. He opened the book. "Repair charm..." He muttered under his breath. "What chapter was it?"

"Sneaking around after dark?" Snape's threatening voice sliced lazily through the air.

Harry yelped, knocking half the pages onto the floor. "No, sir! I wasn't...sneaking," he dropped to the floor on his knees and began gathering the fallen papers nervously.

The lights came on and a pair of shiny black boots came into Harry's line of vision. Harry looked up and quickly got to his feet. "I was just uh..."

Snape plucked a page from Harry's hand. His left eyebrow shot up. "This, Mr. Potter, is page 102 from the Potions text." He looked at Harry. "Why then, is it on its own?"

Harry looked flustered. "I...uh...tore it." He added hastily. "Accidentally."

Snape stuffed the page back into Harry's arms. "No offense, Potter, but you don't even look strong enough to carry your dinner plate much less _tear _a 500 page Potions text." He looked casually at the table. "_And _apparently your Transfiguration text as well."

"Dudley can," Harry muttered. Suddenly indignant, he turned on to his Potions Professor. "And I'm strong enough to carry my own dinner plate!"

Snape looked him up and down with a critical eye. "You are so _skinny _you could shimmy into cracks in this castle's walls."

"Body weight and strength is not relevant," Harry mumbled.

Snape ignored him and reached a long fingered hand towards Harry's Charms text. He flipped to page 89. "Then this, I believe, is relevant."

Harry looked at the bolded chapter title. **Repairment Charms**. "Uh, yeah, thanks Professor."

Professor Snape crossed his hands over his chest. Harry looked at him, suddenly nervous again. Had he said something wrong?

"I...thank you, Professor Snape," he tried.

Snape scowled. "No, you imbecile. I'm waiting for your explanation that you so cleverly sidestepped."

"What explanation?" Harry asked, confused.

"What sent you into such anger until you tore your Transfiguration and _Potions _text?"

"I...uh..." Harry grew even more flustered. "I..."

"Judging that you haven't replied me with your usual cocky demeanor of how you would like me to keep my nose out of your affairs, I would surmise it to be Dursley's doing."

"I am _not _cocky!" Harry spluttered. "But this would be a good time for you to keep..." Catching himself, he fell silent. "Sorry, sir."

Snape studied him closely then straightened. "Good night, Mr. Potter."

"Good night, Professor," Harry replied meekly.

Snape turned to leave then said without turning. "If you find yourself hungry, and I daresay you are after feeding that pig you call your cousin, you may order some food through the floo. The powder is in the bronze urn."

Noticing Harry's open mouth, he sneered, "What I can see has no boundaries."

He billowed his way up the stairs.

"My cousin is _not _a pig!" Harry's voice carried up to the second floor as Snape opened the door to his room, not sounding quite believable. Then footsteps echoed softly through the dungeons as Harry ran halfway up the stairs. "And Professor? I want to...thank you very much. For what you are doing."

"Idiot Gryffindor," muttered Snape. He slammed the door.

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**Comments welcome :) Please review! Don't flame or I'll get all defensive and you'll get all worked up and I'll get aggressive then we'll just have to fight. And I think we both have better things to do.**

**Thanks for all the kind reviews! Next chapter when my total reviews reach 75 or a week, whichever comes first :P**

Tiny replies:  
: If you want to look from that angle, yes, it makes no sense getting expelled from self-defense but the ministry does not know that he's being attacked (I'm a little dumb but not that dumb). However, I haven't started on why, how and when he is going to be expelled. Let me finish the story :)

_DestinyEntwinements_: No! I love Dumbledore, lol!

_Opal_: No, I did not write A Year Like None Other. That is written by Aspen in the Sunlight. But I love that story too :)


	3. Settling In

**The Longest Year**

_by Antea-Aevum_

**A/N**: Thanks for all reviews! As for "threatening to withhold fic if certain amount of reviews are not achieved", please be assured that I will update this every week (on a Tuesday, usually, take or give one), whether I have 1 review or a 100 reviews unless I broke all my fingers or stopped breathing. It's just that some times I finish ahead of my one week schedule and more reviews will persuade me to update it earlier instead of waiting until the week ends. That's all.

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Chapter 3: Settling In

"Blue," Dudley commanded.

Harry sighed, waved his wand and performed the colour charm on Dudley's green shirt. It coloured a light green before turning to a pale blue. It was early morning. Between Dudley's snores and his self-condemning thoughts wandering beyond control, Harry hadn't managed to sleep a wink last night.

"I don't want those coconuts on the trees," Dudley continued.

Harry peered closely at the Hawaiian print on the shirt Aunt Marge had gave Dudley on his twelfth birthday. "But they aren't noticeable."

"Well, _I _noticed it," Dudley snapped.

Harry rolled his eyes before stabbing his wand at the shirt again. The tiny coconuts disappeared. "You liked this shirt very much, you know."

"Well, things have changed!" Dudley snarled. He snatched the shirt from Harry and brought it close to his face, squinting. He threw the shirt back to Harry. "It looks better with coconuts."

Harry was about to snap '_you_ have coconuts for brains' but sudden fluttering of wings interrupted him. He looked up to see Hedwig's snowy body glide around his head twice before perching on his shoulder, hooting gleefully. "Hedwig! How did you find me down here?" Harry cried happily.

Hedwig nibbled his ear fondly in response. Harry grinned, running his hand over Hedwig's soft head.

"Eew!" Dudley complained in disgust. "Dad _said_ he would get rid of that dratted bird!" He turned his back to Harry and picked up a comic book.

Harry ignored Dudley continuing to play with Hedwig. He missed his owl terribly. She was what made his previous summers bearable but when Uncle Vernon had shown up this year with a "look" that Harry recognized as a very bad one, he let loose Hedwig when his uncle's back was turned, telling Hedwig to go find Ron. When his white owl took off into the sky, Harry had felt truly alone.

A sharp knock and the door opened. Professor Snape kicked the door wide open, crossing his arms over his chest. "I shall not tolerate laziness nor slacking in his house. Neither am I happy when both of you are doing things I do not know about. Therefore, we need to have a schedule."

He looked at Dudley then to Harry. He scowled at the owl. "If I find a single bird dropping, she goes straight into the nearest cauldron."

"Yes, sir."

Hedwig gave an angry hoot. Dudley looked pleased.

"For today, you shall study," Snape continued. "Potter, I trust you haven't completed your homework yet. Mr. Dursley, the Headmaster has expressed his wishes that your...muggle studies must not be neglected. He has taken the liberty to bring you a few books on your next year's syllabus. I expect you to read through them and do some exercises." When neither of them moved, Snape barked. "Now!"

Both Harry and Dudley jumped and Harry turned to his trunk, throwing the lid open and started clawing out his unfinished assignments. Dudley looked around, despairingly until Harry motioned to his suitcase. "I brought some stationary for you."

Under Snape's glare, Dudley didn't protest and got the pencils and paper from his suitcase. When they were ready, Snape stalked out of the room with Dudley and Harry trailing after his meekly. Hedwig remained in the room, perched on Harry's bedpost with her head under a wing.

Snape led them to a new table parked beside the stairway. "You shall do your studies here. Do not disturb me unless you are are being burned alive by the Floo." He left the two boys standing beside the mahagony table.

Harry piled his books, scrolls, quills and ink bottles on the table. Dudley pushed him. "I want this side."

"Dudley, you are being difficult," Harry said, irked. But he moved anyway.

Dudley scowled at the books stacked neatly at the center of the table. He picked one up. "I hate Chemistry," he complained. He threw it down and picked up the next one. "I hate Math." He looked at the next book. "I hate Physics!"

"You hate everything," Harry mumbled. He settled down and unrolled an empty parchment.

"What do you have to do?" Dudley asked, sounding a little annoyed and curious at the same time.

"Mind your own business, Dudley," Harry answered.

Dudley reached for his Defense text. Harry had his wand out in a flash and smacked the back of Dudley's hand with it.

"Hey!" Dudley yelled, rubbing his stinging hand.

"Don't think about it!" Harry snapped. He'd spent three hours compiling the torn pages before he could perform the charm last night. He wasn't about to do it again.

Dudley grumbled under his breath and sat down in the chair in a huff. He crossed his arms and glared at Harry.

"Professor Snape wouldn't like it if he finds out that you have no intention to do what he says," Harry told his cousin without looking up from his book.

"Oh and you would know it how?" Dudley snapped but he was reaching for his books.

Harry looked up and raised an eyebrow, imitating Snape. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Dudley scowled and opened the Math book, grasping a pencil in his pudgy fist.

They worked in silence for the next two hours before Dudley threw his pencil down in frustration. "I can't do it!"

Harry glanced at Dudley's book. Page 3. He looked at Dudley whose face was red in anger and frustration. Somehow, he knew it wasn't all because of the Trigonometry. He set down his quill on his third essay.

"You know, Dudley," he said quietly. "I know its hard but it's not good to...bottle it up. It's okay to cry. I mean, _really _cry."

Dudley looked as if the sky had suddenly opened and sprayed candy floss over Snape. "Don't be ridiculous, Potter."

"Suits yourself," Harry said picking up his quill again. "And you got a mistake in line fourteen. You substracted the answer instead of multiplying."

"I know that!" Dudley said hotly.

Another 20 minutes passed with Dudley scratching furiously on the paper and Harry finishing up his Defense essay. Then Dudley snatched Harry's quill.

"Listen to me!" Dudley shouted. "You just...stop doing what you are doing!"

Harry looked at his cousin, not saying anything.

"You...you..." Dudley spluttered. Then he threw the quill back at Harry. "I...hate you! Those people that killed mum and dad...they were your kind weren't they? Dad always said that you would be the death of us one day. He was right!" He pushed away from the table, getting up and pacing back and forth. "You knew how to save them, didn't you? You just didn't want to! You just...sat back...and watched them die," tears were streaming down Dudley's face. "A wizard," he scoffed. "Instead of letting mum bleed to death you could just wave that...that...stupid stick of yours and give her a leg couldn't you!"

He stabbed a finger at Harry. "You probably think that they are not worth saving, that they are not your _kind_! They were your relatives for God's sake! How could you be so selfish? They...they l-l-loved you!" Then he exploded. "Don't you dare say they didn't! Every night Dad tried to beat the freakiness out of you but you just kept going back to this stupid school! If you had just stayed behind, everything would be okay!" Finally out of steam, Dudley sat down on the floor and sobbed loudly. "E-Everything w-w-will be..." His next words were drowned in his cacophony.

Harry felt tears prickling the back of his eyes and refused to look up, staring stubbornly at his clenched fists. Dudley's wails continued to penetrate the still air of the dungeons.

"Enough, Mr. Dursley," Snape's cold voice interrupted Dudley's bawling. "You have said and done enough. Go and wash your face and stay in your room for the rest of the day."

"Y-You can't m-make m-me do it!" Dudley yelled between hiccups and sobs. "I would not b-bend to your kind!"

"I am addressing you as an adult and you as an unruly adolescent," Snape countered. "Now get up!"

Dudley picked up on Snape's dangerous tone and got up, running up the stairs, still howling at the top of his voice. A moment later, the door slammed, the sound echoeing throughout the dungeons.

"You should have let him cry," Harry said quietly, his eyes still glued to his fists. "I think it helps."

"I will not tolerate shouting in my dungeons," Snape snarled. "Nor blubbering."

Harry nodded then picked up his quill on the floor, smoothing out the bents in the feathers. He dipped it in the ink bottle, refusing to look up.

Snape came closer to the table. "You are behaving more like a Hufflepuff than a Gryffindor."

Harry continued writing.

Snape leaned his palms on the table. "You know what he said was untrue."

"Really."

"You are not a trained mediwizard, you could have done nothing to help your aunt. And the attack was not..."

"Could you stop it!" Harry shouted, finally looking up to glare at his professor. "Just stop, alright? I don't need your sympathy!"

"I'm not sympathizing with you, Potter," Snape snapped back.

"Then why are you suddenly being so nice?" Harry shot back. "You don't have to do what Professor Dumbledore tells you to, you know!" He began to arrange his books and parchments in a stack rather violently. He screwed the cap back on his ink bottle angrily and dumped his quills on top of the stack. He got up and pushed the chair back roughly.

"I'm not doing it because Albus told me to," Snape said silently.

"Then stop doing it for whatever insane reasons because it's driving me crazy trying to figure out why!" Harry grabbed all his stuff and marched up the staircase. He stopped when he reached the landing. "But I appreciate it." He vanished quickly into his room.

Snape sat down on the couch, suddenly tired. Try as he might, he could never forget that night where he lay petrified on the ground after Potter had whacked the curse back to him, at an angle where he could see right through the car and the door into the house. He had watched, unable to move, as Harry tried to staunch his aunt's wound, reassure his howling cousin, ignoring his own wounds and exhaustion. It wouldn't have been significant if Snape didn't know about Harry's childhood, the memories he had ripped from the boy during their Occlumency lessons. Watching Harry tend selflessly to his abusive family, he had developed a newfound respect for a Harry Potter and a feeling of shame for himself. If Harry could treat the son of the man who abused him ever since he was a small kid as he would his own brother regardless of what his father had done to him, why couldn't Snape do the same? See his enemy's son through new eyes and not ones filled with petty thoughts of revenge and spite?

Harry still didn't know he had watched him for more than an hour, unable to move, before the blasted Aurors and Dumbledore dragged their asses out there. Harry also probably didn't know that he hadn't stunned everyone. Anyone that was already under a spell or curse was somehow not affected by Harry's powerful spell. For the same reason, Lucius who was anonymously cursed by Snape with the strength sapping curse earlier for he knew the older Malfoy was the cruelest Death Eater amongst them, had managed to grab his Portkey and disappear from the scene. Bellatrix and a few others who had cursed each other accidentally before (or perhaps not) in the hubbub had also apparated away, fearing the arrivals of the Aurors - their attack had been over the time limit set, impended by various unexpected problems, mainly Harry Potter himself.

The fireplace exploded into green flames and Snape sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees as Dumbledore's head poked out. "Afternoon, dear Severus, could you so kindly step over with Harry? We have some things to iron out."

"We will be there shortly." Snape answered.

Dumbledore nodded, then paused, unsure whether to ask. "How is Mr. Dursley doing?"

Snape sneered. "Coping."

Dumbledore sighed. "He is also one of the problems we have to sort out. Come quick, Severus, I would like to get this over with."

Severus nodded then swept up the staircase, coming to Harry's and Dudley's door, rapping smartly on the lovely honey-coloured wood. Harry opened the door. Dudley was sulking on the bed, a comic book in hand. Snape noticed torn pages of the Muggle books he had brought for Dudley and suppressed a sigh.

"The Headmaster would like to see you now," Snape said.

Harry looked back at Dudley. "Uh..."

"He will be safe. And so will everything in the dungeons," Snape said pointedly. "Anything destroyed without your name on it, Mr. Dursley, and you will not like the consequences. Am I understood?"

Dudley ignored him.

"Am. I. Understood." Snape said, his voice low and threatening.

"Yes," Dudley answered grumpily.

Snape took Harry by the elbow and led him to the fireplace. He kept a hand on the boy's arm as he threw in the Floo powder and shouted, "Headmaster's Office!"

Only Snape's grip kept Harry from tumbling to the ground. He had never really mastered the ability to walk out casually like his friends and all the rest of the Wizarding community. It was as if he was doomed to be a klutz when it came to the Floo.

"Afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore beamed at the pair. "Now, now, Severus, don't ruin the lovely afternoon with that scowl of yours."

Severus' scowl grew wider.

"Have a seat," Dumbledore wiped his moon-shaped glasses on his robes and placed them on again. "We have quite a few dilemmas here, but first..." He opened his desk drawer and drew out Harry's wand. The well-cared for wand refracted light off it's smooth, polished surface. He handed it to Harry.

"Thank you, sir," Harry took the wand, the familiar weight putting him at ease. He reached into the back of his jeans and slid the borrowed wand out, giving it to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore took it, using it to draw up two chairs directly behind Snape and Harry. "Sit," he said. "It's tiring having to look up all the time."

Snape and Harry obediently sat, Snape's scowl manifesting itself into an unpleasant expression.

"Did you use the stunning curse on everyone?" Dumbledore started, getting straight to the point, reclining comfortably in his chair.

"Yes, sir. But I didn't really mean to stun everyone, just the three Death Eaters blocking my door and I..."

Dumbledore leaned forward. "Are you absolutely certain you performed that spell?"

Harry looked nervous. "Yes, sir."

"By yourself?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore sat back again. "Nymphadora came to see me this morning. It seems that the Aurors were very perplexed."

"About what, sir?"

"It happens that your wand did not register a spell that powerful. Minor stunning curses, yes. But not one of such magnitude." Dumbledore peered over his glasses, studying Harry.

"Er, yes. That would be it." Harry looked _very _nervous.

"What is it, Harry," Dumbledore asked. "Whose wand did you use?"

Harry sucked in a long breath. "I didn't do it with a wand."

Dumbledore frowned.

"I, uh...wandless magic."

Snape breathed in sharply. Dumbledore briefly registered shock then quickly recovered. "_Wandless _magic?"

"Yes, sir. I, uh..."

Dumbledore sat forward, held out his hand. "Give me your wrist, Harry."

Harry extended his arm slowly. Dumbledore grasped his wrist, just below his palm then paused, as if listening for something. He released Harry's wrist after a moment. "Yes. I feel it. Your power is growing." He looked at Harry, a mixture of pride and worry. "You will need to train it as it grows." He nodded, sadly. "Your parents was very powerful, Harry. You have inherited as much."

Harry didn't say anything.

"About you performing underage magic, the Ministry has reached a decision."

Harry looked up.

"Fudge has insisted that rules be rules, no exceptions made. You are expelled." Dumbledore held out a hand to ward off Harry's protests. "But you _will_ be staying here, not as an official student but as an invited novice. You will have to seek the consent of your teachers to let you in the class, but I believe that will be of little problems."

"Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "As you are not an official student, you belong to no house."

Harry looked like he wanted to protest but he clamped his mouth shut.

"But if Minerva will let you," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You can continue to stay at the Gryffindor tower."

At those words, the small black cloud mentally hanging over Harry's head vanished and he felt like he could get up and hug Snape immediately. He felt a grin forming, tried to harness it but the grin refused to be tamed.

"Your house crest will be replaced with the Hogwarts' crest and points earned and taken will be awarded and deducted from all houses. Do you have a problem, Harry?"

"No, sir," Harry smiled.

"Headmaster..." started Snape, horrified at the idea of his usual points-from-Gryffindor-Potter quota affecting his own house.

Dumbledore silenced him with a look.

"Um, sir? What about Quidditch?"

"I'm certain it can be arranged for you to play for Gryffindor," Dumbledore replied. "Although you can also play for the other houses." He smiled at the face Harry pulled, the thought of presenting 150 points to Slytherin enough to make him drop Quidditch entirely.

"Thank you very much, Professor," Harry said.

"No, this was not your fault," Dumbledore said silently. "It shouldn't have come to this." He turned to Snape before the mood could get sombre.

"I'm very happy to see that you haven't killed Harry for petrifying you," Dumbledore said lightly, attempting to create a short break from serious matters.

"It was _you_?" Harry said incredulously.

"Yes, it was _me_," Snape snapped. "And I haven't killed you yet because I don't want to deal with your cousin myself."

"You were trying to petrify _me_, what was I supposed to do?" Harry snapped back.

"I was trying to save you," Snape said testily.

"By _petrifying _me?" Harry retorted. "Neat plan!"

"Boys, boys!" Dumbledore said, both his arms out between Snape and Harry, looking very much like a referee.

An unwanted referee.

Snape reared up. "Since you were behaving like the expected hysterical you, I couldn't get you still enough to listen to me and touch the Portkey, could I?"

"You looked like any other Death Eater! I wasn't about to let you petrify me! And what were you doing there anyway! If you knew there was an attack, why didn't you alert the Ministry?"

"The Dark Lord told us at the eleventh hour, we weren't given time to prepare, it was wands out, and Portkey to Privet Drive! And why the hell am I even bothering to explain it to you, who obviously haven't enough brains to figure it out yourself?"

"Yes, that would be _very _simple to figure out, I'm shocked that I never thought of it!"

"Glad you think that way too."

"Stop it, both of you!" Dumbledore barked, mentally reminding himself not to say anything without thinking of 50 different ways it could turn out as. "We are not here to blame anyone."

Harry and Snape glared at each other before they settled down.

"Sorry, Professor," said Harry grudgingly.

Snape sniffed, crossing his arms.

"Now, Harry, can I have your permission to withdraw your memory of the previous night into the pensieve?" Dumbledore said before Snape made a comeback.

"Why?" Harry asked puzzled. Usually Dumbledore just asked him to tell him the story again and again until he was sure he hadn't left out any details.

"I'm very sure you will be tired of reciting your story a few times," Dumbledore said kindly. "Furthermore, your cousin is er, well, destructive when left for long."

"_What _do you mean by destructive?" Snape demanded in a threatening voice.

"Oh, yes," Harry nodded quickly. "I would really like to not...er, repeat myself."

Dumbledore smiled, purposely ignoring Snape. "Very good." He stood up, turned to a cupboard behind him and removed a stone basin. It was a small one and the stone was polished smooth with use. The shimmering liquid refracted, absorbed and reflected different sparkles of light. At Harry's confirmation, Dumbledore touched the tip of his wand to Harry's forehead and withdrew a silvery strand of memory. He let it slide into the pensieve.

"Thank you, Harry." Dumbledore waved his wand and the pensieve returned to the cupboard, the doors closing with a soft click. "Lastly, your cousin."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Your Aunt Margeret is..._reluctant _to take Mr. Dursley into her care," Dumbledore said.

"Why?" Harry spluttered, shocked. "She dotes on him all the time!"

"Apparently it's different seeing him once every summer and seeing him every hour." Dumbledore pulled out a sheaf of papers and adjusted his glasses. "She 'will not take care of that pig lard anymore than she would plant coconut trees in her garden'," he quoted.

"But she _has _coconut trees in her garden!" Harry cried.

Dumbledore peered at the papers. "My mistake, 'she would plant _authentic_ coconut trees in her garden'."

"Dudley's her only nephew!"

"The situation is stretched very thin, Harry. I'm afraid that next to using magic, there is no other choice and I'm reserved to using magic for it is not very ethical to do so on an unsuspecting Muggle. I wanted you to try to talk to your Aunt."

"She would sooner uproot all her stupid fake coconut trees than talk to me," Harry mumbled.

"Please do try. If it fails, I suppose we'll have to give her some time," Dumbledore said.

"The time shall not be at my expense," Snape interrupted.

"Oh, Severus..."

"Shall _not _be at my expense," Snape repeated.

"We'll have a talk about that," Dumbledore said. He sighed and scratched at a piece of yellowed parchement. "So many things to talk about."

He looked at Harry. "Can you do this for me?"

Harry nodded. "But I'm telling you..."

"No matter, there's no harm done," Dumbledore removed a telephone from under his desk, getting tangled in the wires. "Oh, dear..." He waved his wand absently and the wires vanished.

He set the telephone on the desk top in front of Harry. He tapped it with his wand. "Here."

Harry picked up the receiver reluctantly. There was a ringing tone and he looked up. Dumbledore nodded. Harry waited until Aunt Marge's sharp voice answered. "Hello."

"Ah...Aunt Marge..."

"Who is this?" She barked. "Who are you calling an Aunt?"

"This is Harry, Harry Potter, I..."

She shrieked, the sound vibrating through Harry's ears and he tore the receiver from his ear. She continued to scream, Dumbledore wincing as her voice reached new heights, audible to all in the room. Snape shook his head in disgust. Then abruptly, she stopped and cut off the line, a loud slam before the busy tone set in.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said my name," Harry said weakly.

Dumbledore sighed, writing on his parchment again. "One more problem..."

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**Comments welcome :) Please review! Don't flame or I'll get all defensive and you'll get all worked up and I'll get aggressive then we'll just have to fight. And I think we both have better things to do.**

**Thanks for all the kind reviews! School recently started for me and I think the next one will take about one to two weeks, but fear not! It will come :) Can't say when I'll finish the next one so no hostage situations, lol. But please, review! (I'm contradicting myself aren't I?)**


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